Learning
by Malind
Summary: Tidus gets some unwanted attention from a rival.


I wrote this around when the game originally came out.

Disclaimer: The Final Fantasy X universe and characters are owned by Square Enix. I make no profit from this fanfiction.

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It didn't matter that the water was clear and pristine. All Tidus saw was green. In fact, he felt green pulsing through his fingers where he'd touched the ball, convulsing his body, dizzying his mind, and-oh help him-overturning his stomach.

'Oh gods, -please- don't throw up,' Tidus pleaded in his mind, unable to hiss out the words. He needed what air he had. 'Please, no.'

Nope, losing it in a huge fishbowl of water wouldn't have been a pretty sight.

It wasn't the first time he'd been poisoned, but this was certainly the closest he'd ever felt to death without a slash to his stomach. The venom had shot through his body with a startling efficiency. In those few moments, death would have been enjoyable. But no such luck. According to the rules of the game, the general laws of humanity for that matter, a venom attack couldn't actually kill him.

Vigorous waves of water pushed against Tidus' curled up body, as the red-haired man, whom Tidus had made a feeble attempt to block even after his failed grab at the blitzball, swam away with swift strokes. The liquid around Tidus stilled just as quickly as he was left behind.

Thankfully though, within a few moments, the initial waves of nausea and the constricting of his veins subsided just enough for him to thrust himself around and watch helplessly, as Doram passed the ball back to Bickson. One long, powerful leg kicked the ball with such force that their poor goalie couldn't swim fast enough to block it. Moments before the score, the siren rang. The tournament was over. Tidus blinked a look to the scoreboard. Even with that last second point though, the score was 3 to 2.

The blonde man smiled even through his aches. His team had won. Now that woman at the bar -had- to give Wakka that ball. The smile helped to hide the irrational number of games they'd already played so far to win that very blitzball. Tidus had managed to somehow keep his thoughts to himself that that woman should have just -given- Wakka the ball and got it over with. They were saving the world, after all. . .

Or at least, trying to. Gratefully, but not surprisingly due to the secrecy of Spira's hierarchy, no one, not even the guards hunting them, seemed to know that Yunalesca and many others were officially dead - dead even by the council's standards.

Tidus raked a wavering glance over the sphere and focused on the vibrant orange spike of his friend's hair. Apparently already watching the blonde man and his recovery, Wakka nodded to him over the distance and then started back to the entrance of the sphere. Tidus followed a few seconds later, trying in vain to ignore the pains of his body.

That was one technique this man -had- to learn, if only to deliver it back to Bickson. A spiteful grin formed. Or perhaps even allocate it in slow, steady douses. . .

A laugh burst out of him. Bubbles escaped, some tickling his nose. He needed to sleep for about a week. Badly. His trains of thoughts were getting less and less sane.

Minutes later, the swordsman was sitting on the stairs leading down to the locker room, the hot sun baking the water off of his tanned skin. Tidus tried his best to ignore the spots in front of his eyes and his trembling muscles. He should've been taking a shower with the rest of his team members, but just the thought of more water, covering ever part of his skin, made him want to throw up more than the venom did. There was only so much Blitzball a man could take, and he'd reached his limit hours before. For the first time in his life, in face of everything that had happened to him and his friends, Blitzball was utterly meaningless to him. Before that day, it hadn't mattered that, in reality, it had been an addictive fix that hid him from reality. He couldn't doubt his new realization. His stomach wouldn't let him.

Without warning, the sun vanished. Of course, the footsteps he heard walking up behind him, and the accompanying body, were probably the cause of that.

"You really shouldn't sit around. Working it off will help, even if you're sure you're going to die any second."

Tidus cringed at the familiar voice. "Bickson, you're the last person I'm going to take advice from at this particular moment. Don't you have some general havoc to cause? Or some fans to pretend you like?"

The man, blocking his wonderfully warm sun, laughed gaily, and Tidus twisted his head and popped open an eye to glare. Bickson didn't take the hint. Instead, he crouched down, and murmured, "That Venom Shot wasn't meant for you, you know. You got in the way." Tidus' glare intensified, lining his face, nearly hiding the sapphire eye completely. Bickson's grin only grew. "It's all part of the game. . ." Tidus gritted his teeth. "Yevon, I never knew you were such a bad winner!"

Tidus snorted, wishing he could deny Bickson's final words. "Yeah, I crawled up your hill, didn't I?"

Another laugh burst out of the redhead. "You remember that, huh?" A tattooed arm propped itself on a knee and gripped a narrow chin. Bickson seemed to dip into contemplation. Then a moment later, he sighed out, "Yeah, those were the words of a man who desperately needed a kick in the ass. The fall has been long, but luckily my ass is still intact."

Tidus found it difficult not to laugh, despite his aversion. But he managed not to. Why was this guy suddenly being, well, nice to him, the swordsman couldn't help but wonder. Nonetheless, he didn't let those thoughts be known as he growled, "Yes, well, right now my own ass needs some tending to. So could you please leave so I can throw up?"

Bickson didn't move in the slightest, his new smile as brilliant as ever. "The arena is open for practice right now. Maybe you should hop back in and work the poison out."

"No thanks." Thoughts of crystal clear water flooded Tidus' mind. Surrounding him. Drowning him. Sapphire eyes closed tight. His hand gripped his forehead. "Never. Never again."

The redhead snorted, probably not grasping the full extent of the words, nor knowing that Tidus was quite serious. "How about I teach you that technique?"

Tidus held his breath for a moment. Again he wondered why in the hell this man was being so nice to him all the sudden: Guilt? He doubted it. A joke? Probably. The breath rushed out. He looked up and into hazel eyes. He searched for deception, a trick, but the blitzball player merely looked curious and hopeful.

"I promise I won't hurt you."

Tidus did laugh at that. He couldn't help it. "Bickson, that's the last thing I'm worried about."

"Good," he murmured, his smile lessening just enough to notice if someone was paying attention. And Tidus was. "Well?"

The blonde man frowned and unsteadily stood up. The other man was a ghost behind him as he then made his was back to the players' entrance. Over his shoulder, he said, "Is this a ploy to get one of my techniques out of me? If it's the Jecht Shot you're after, you better get in line."

"What makes you think I want anything?" The voice was oddly calm.

With the words, the thought crossed the swordsman's mind that perhaps he was walking quite freely into some type of trap. Blitzball players did have a prank side to their persona, most likely promoted by the stress of the game. Screaming and expectant fans, equally expectant team members, and living with one's self, tended to do that.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps. . ." Tidus meant to add a witty comeback, but couldn't manage one. He was already worn out by their conversation.

Hazel eyes peered over his shoulder. "You'll feel better soon. In fact, you don't look so pale anymore."

Suddenly self-conscious, Tidus touched his own cheek, then dropped his hand. He stopped without warning. Bickson plowed right into his back, exclaiming his surprise with a gasp. Quickly, the redhead took a step back, and opened his mouth, presumably for an apology, but Tidus was quicker:

"I know I'm going to sound like a complete ass here, but -why- are you talking to me? I mean, before you made it quite clear that I was the dirt under your sandal."

Bickson's jaw dropped, obviously astonished, or very good at hiding the fact that he was overly entertained. Tidus couldn't decide which. Composing himself, the redhead frowned a little. "Do I need a reason?"

"Yes," burst out of Tidus with his half-laugh.

Darkness crept into hazel eyes. But then those eyes were adverted, as Bickson smiled again. "Well, I must admit that I'm curious. Rumors spread quickly. I've heard what you've been doing." He looked back up and gazed right into sapphire eyes. "I haven't been able to figure out why you have the entire Bevelle military on your ass. . . But I think everyone is just as curious as I am. I can't help but wonder what you're going to do next." A thick hand pushed at his blue headband in a obviously nervous movement. Then he added with a whisper, "People. . . have hopes."

Ah, Tidus should have known. This blitzball player was just trying to get information out of him, to get reassurance that the world was still going to exist the next day. Tidus opened his mouth, but found he couldn't speak the words, partially because he honestly didn't know what would happen, but mostly because of the way the other man was looking at him.

Tidus bit his lip and started walking again down the hallway. By then, the effects of the venom were almost completely gone. His body still ached, but now, his heart ached more, with the thoughts of Yuna's, all of Spira's, future.

Quiet footsteps were behind him, and he felt an odd reassurance, although he was sure it would have vanished had he looked back to the red-haired man.

He reached the entrance, took his breath of air, and was set to go forward, when a hand grabbed his wrist. Bickson took another step forward. The closeness of him - they were much closer than they should have been. Tidus' breath came out in a gush and he tried to pull his hand away. But the other man surely noticed that he wasn't trying all that hard. No matter how the blue bandanna tired, the it just couldn't seem to keep red locks out of those rich hazel eyes, a perfect height to Tidus' own. There was no need to look up as he did to Auron, or down as he did to Yuna. They were just right there for his searching.

Bickson turned on a sheepish smile and looked down to the wrist he held before he let it go.

"What?" asked Tidus a little more airily than he'd thought possible.

The man rose his gaze. Tidus wished he could have remembered how to breath. Again a murmur, "Well, since we can't talk once we get in there, I thought I'd mention a couple of things." When Tidus only nodded, he continued, "Man, where to start. Well, I don't know who taught you, but for me it was my father and a coach who seemed to telepathically match his every thought. Those two should have gotten married, instead of my parents, I swear." He grinned. "I'd like to blame them for my glowing personality, but I think, well, I never had to be them, now did I?" Bickson sighed, overly dramatic, seemingly unimpressed with his own story. But in watching him, Tidus knew right away that the redhead was hiding how much it really bothered him. "Anyway, they were quite particular in teaching me those techniques. I think they're sadistic, personally. You should see the smile they get when I use them." He faked a shudder, still grinning. Tidus couldn't help his appalled look. "Changing your mind about learning it?"

"They weren't watching today, were they?"

Bickson burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm sure you got them off plenty. Those pretty blue eyes clouding over. Hunching over in pain. But hey, don't feel bad. I cower to think off all the times they used them on me before I picked up on them. I'll be easier on you, trust me," he purred with a wink, then leaned over and grabbed a blitzball off of the rack.

Tidus was at a loss. He couldn't believe how easily the other person talked about his family, his coach, like it was all a pleasant memory.

"Don't look so heart broken, Tidus," Bickson whispered warmly, using his name for the first time, "I swear I'll be nice to you."

"That's not what I'm worried about," the swordsman said, his voice more hard than he'd meant it to be. He'd never say what he was actually feeling, an ache for the other man. He sucked in his breath and entered the sphere before Bickson had a chance to reply.

The moment he got in there, he remember that he did -not- want to be in there. Water enveloped him, completely saturating him. He panicked. His body swung around and tried to make a quick retreat back to the exit. Never, never in his life would he have ever thought that every bone in his body could hate the mere thought of Blitzball, let alone full-out playing it. In his panic, he slammed right into Bickson. A large cluster of bubbles escaped the redhead's mouth from the contact, obviously not prepared for it. Irrationally, Tidus shoved at the solid body, completely lost in his panic attack. It wasn't just the water. It was everything. A build up of the weeks. Of all the death. Death upon death. Oh gods, he couldn't stand any of it!

Strong arms grabbed him and tried to still his fighting body. Then, without warning, a mouth was on his. Tidus almost sucked in a breath of water in his shock, but luckily his training forbade it. He stopped his struggles, but his body remained stone like.

He'd been kissed and had kissed more men and women than he cared to remember, but never had those moments held this initial shock.

Suddenly, Tidus pushed himself into it. It was a release. Sure, not by escape, but it turned his mind, his body, into the feel of his lips against the other man.

Bickson pulled away and would have pulled even further had Tidus not in turn grabbed his arms and pulled him back. Whatever the redhead's increasing struggles were from, Tidus didn't care. He pushed his tongue into the other man's mouth and groaned into it when the other man stilled. Then he moaned when Bickson's tongue tentatively moved against his own.

The blitzball player's words were almost tangible in Tidus' head, a simple 'please, please, please,' over and over again. His mouth was so warm and sweet with the taste of fruit. Unbelievably delicious.

The swordsman wrapped his arms around the man's thick waist, and brought him just that much closer. He was lost in the man's breath, his heated skin. He didn't want it to end. He wanted to be lost.

Then the redhead started to shake his head, pulling away without warning, and then away completely. It was the look in Bickson's eyes that made the swordsman let go. The man was clearly upset. Feeding on that, Tidus' apprehension began to grow again. Bickson pointed behind him, then swam around him, heading to the blitzball he'd let loose during their embrace.

There were no expectations, but when the blitzball player swam right past him to the exit, Tidus felt himself go cold. He floated for a few seconds, although it felt like an eternity, then followed after. He couldn't help it. Their kiss had taken more of his breath away than an entire Blitzball game.

In the hallway, the man was already stalking away. Tidus was confused out of his mind. He bounded several steps before he said, "Stop, damn it!"

Bickson did stop, surprising Tidus, but didn't turn around. Tidus caught up to him. The redhead's breath was heavy, in a way it never was after the several matches they'd battled each other in. The blonde man stepped in front him. Hazel eyes wouldn't look up.

"What-what's going on here?!" Tidus gritted his teeth, in an attempt to contain his voice, before he continued, "what was that back there? I-I. . ."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry about what?!"

The redhead met his narrowed sapphire eyes. "I don't know what came over me." Then he looked to the wall, obviously unable to hold the gaze. "I didn't mean to kiss you."

Tidus let out an exasperated half-laugh. "Did it look like I was complaining?"

At the words, a lovely blush appeared on the man's wet skin. "I mean, well, you looked like you were fighting for your life there for a moment. I just. . ."

Never had there been a day that Tidus had thought this man could ever be at a loss for words. He was baffled. The only thing he could think to do was take another step forward, nearly touching his own wet body against the man. "I just went kinda crazy there for a second." The man gave no impression that he'd heard, so Tidus added, "I never thought that that was what you wanted from me."

Pink skin went nearly scarlet. Bickson cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

The swordsman frowned. He realized that he didn't have a clue what was going through this man's mind. Nor did he even know him in the slightest. But he knew that Bickson had been trying to run away from him. He was clearly upset. Tidus just didn't know what to think. Bickson had kissed him first, right? Of course, he'd been the one to stick his tongue down the other man's throat. Then the obvious hit him. He knew without a doubt that Bickson, the star Blitzball player, the flirt, had never kissed another man before.

The thought unavoidably brought him to think of a pair of mismatched eyes. He'd kissed her too, her first kiss. His heart fell.

Tidus looked away, ashamed of his whole irrational scene, muttering, "I'm sorry. Look, I'm feeling better. I-I better be going. My friends. . ." With that, he walked around the man, whose hazel eyes were suddenly begging, and to the exit.

"Wait," Bickson called, striding after him. "Are you coming back? I mean, I. . . I wanted to show you. . . some. . . things."

When Tidus stopped, the other man stopped in sync, a short distance away. Tidus turned his head and smiled. "I hope so."

And he meant it, though not only for Bickson.

The redhead smiled back, his face no longer quite the same color of his hair. "So do I."


End file.
